


wanting is treacherous unless i’m wanting you

by hellisheavenwithyou



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon-Compliant, F/F, Slight fluff, cause why not add another one, eve's thought process, post 3x03, smut in ch2, villanelle's thought process
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23960728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellisheavenwithyou/pseuds/hellisheavenwithyou
Summary: She once thought that when she finally had Eve that was it.  The chase would be over.  She could move on.But now…now she knows what Eve tastes like.  Now she knows another, beautiful thing Eve’s capable of.  Now she wants more.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 24
Kudos: 204





	1. wanting

**Author's Note:**

> I've not written a creative piece of work that wasn't school related in a LONG time. However, since discovering this show a year ago, it's reignited my love for creative writing and that past episode especially so, so I'm adding to the growing collection of post-kiss episode fics.
> 
> Anyway these two will be the death of me. Hope you enjoy!

She wanted, desperately, to remain in Eve’s home once she dropped off the horrendously adorable pink bear that night; to see the look on her face when she returned from work, to witness her reaction, if it would be just as brutally beautiful as earlier that day on the bus. 

But she didn’t. She knew Eve would want space.

So, she gave it to her.

Instead, Villanelle made her way to her old handler’s new abode, the smile never leaving her face, even when he screamed into it as she hid beneath his bed sheets.

It was quite humorous, she thought, how often the of them two traded roles; one of them adopting a friendly façade whilst the other acted hostile. Never both, never neither.

But for the first time since Konstantin had become Villanelle’s handler, she found a sense of dissatisfaction in this dynamic. She had just experienced one of the most surreal moments of her life – that information’s something you share with people you love (or at least tolerate to a certain extent), isn’t it? If Eve had kissed her in Paris, when they worked together in London, or even in Rome (before Konstantin abandoned her for his family), she would have exclaimed this information to him with the ecstatic glee of a child. And Konstantin would either sigh and shake his head, or scoff and shake his head. There was really no telling between the two sometimes.

But she can’t trust Konstantin. She can’t trust anybody, not even Dasha, who still believes Villanelle “dealt with it”. The elation Villanelle’s been feeling within her since the kiss dissipates slightly.   
She turns to her right side to gaze at the starless London sky, listening to the echoey sounds of Konstantin’s snores from downstairs. Despite their complicated relationship, it was still comforting having him nearby, even with the annoying noises he made when he slept.

It wasn’t enough to lull Villanelle to sleep, however. Her mind raced with the day’s events, her thoughts as violent and erratic as the bus’s movements. The murder of her target, whilst always the highlight of her international trips, barely occupied the space in her mind. Whilst one part focused on gaining information from Konstantin about her family, the other part centred on Eve.

Eve, Eve, Eve. Always Eve. 

Who had she been before this woman? The Villanelle part of her, not the Oksana part. She was (nearly) long gone by the time Eve entered her life. 

Life was simpler before she’d entered that infamous hospital bathroom all those months ago, but it wasn’t fun. After some time, the routine of travel-murder-sex became as monotonous as any regular human’s mundane existence consisting of work-kids-chores. Villanelle was bored. She’d needed something new, exciting, fresh, to make her feel ALIVE again. The kind of alive she’d felt when she’d killed for the first time, when she escaped from prison, when she’d gotten her first postcard from The Twelve and came up with the perfect execution for a “bank teller” in the middle of Sussex. 

When Eve entered her life, Villanelle presumed her usual routine for getting a woman into bed would apply: she’d “accidentally” run into her, offer to take her out to dinner, charm her, seduce her, and finally fuck her. Even once discovering the same beautiful woman she ran into in the bathroom was an MI6 worker following her trail of kills…for Villanelle it was all the more intoxicating.

However, Eve had proved more challenging; a woman worn down from too many years of being underestimated in a boring marriage, and too set in her morals to lead an international assassin she’d been tracking into her bed. 

But, things change. Time went on. And Villanelle came to know Eve even more than Eve knew herself, and it was exhilarating to watch. Every fight, every permanent mark they’d etched into one another out of fury and betrayal, every lust-filled stare, sly glance, knowing look, it was all worth it just to have Eve kiss her.

Knowing sleep wasn’t coming any time soon, she tiptoes down Konstantin’s spiral staircase and out into the night, stealing one of his ginormous woollen coats on the way out. She glares at her reflection in his hallway mirror in disgust, but this was an evening in London. Villanelle did not want to die of hypothermia, in London no less.

The only way she would ever accept dying in such a dreary place would be with Eve…

Which is why she was heading there now, fingertips tracing her lips instinctively. Not to die, though. They both had too much to discuss with one another before either one of them somehow managed to die.

She once thought that when she finally had Eve that was it. The chase would be over. She could move on. 

But now…now she knows what Eve tastes like. Now she knows another, beautiful thing Eve’s capable of. Now she wants more.

She wants.  
She wants.  
She wants.

Retracing the steps she’s already memorised to Eve’s new home; Villanelle ponders what she’ll say to the woman when she arrives there.

“Hi, Eve.” She mimics the words spoken to the woman earlier on the bus (before she was shoved towards the other end of it). “Have you been thinking of me?”

She honestly isn’t sure any more what she was originally going to say to Eve when she saw her that day – despite the time she’d had to prepare as she followed her bus route. But it was almost as if the second she saw the older woman, all thoughts just…vanished. 

She could only focus on Eve.

She couldn’t remember life before this woman.

She didn’t want to.

Villanelle crept up to Eve’s house, guided round to the window above her bed by the faint glow of the streetlights. She couldn’t manoeuvre through these windows; the panes too small to do anything but open them for air, but it gave her the perfect view of Eve’s bed…

Eve appeared to be asleep, curled up on her right side, one arm under her pillows whilst the other tightly clutched around a small object…Villanelle cannot contain her smile as she realises what the other woman’s holding.

It’s her heart.   
Well, her plastic one. But it may as well be her actual heart at this point.

She exhales deeply, her breath fogging up the window as she stares longingly at the object of her affection. Wake up, Eve.

Almost as if she senses Villanelle, or can hear her thoughts, Eve stirs and opens her eyes.

They lock onto Villanelle’s.

The blonde can feel her grin spreading across her face, beyond caring at this point how she presents herself to the other woman. After all, Eve was the one who let her guard down today, displaying how she truly feels to not only Villanelle but to a bunch of bystanders, too.

Eve expression is similar to the one she wore when Villanelle pinned her to the bus seat; a mixture of frustration, longing, lust, anger. Villanelle had expected fear to be among the mix – she had shot Eve the last time they were together – but there was none there. It seemed they were way past fear, now.

They stare at one another for what feels like hours, measured by the loss of feeling in Villanelle’s fingertips as the night’s chill worsens. But she doesn’t want to move; doesn’t want to break the spell between them. Eve’s the first to break it though, making her way to her front door.

Are you going to shut me out, Eve?

She opens it.

The heart still rests in her hand.

Villanelle can barely contain her excitement as she practically runs to Eve’s front door, like she’s afraid the older woman will change her mind and close the door on her after all. But she doesn’t, greeting Villanelle at the entrance with the same look from earlier and a white-knuckled grip around the plastic heart…

“…Admit it, Eve, you wish I was here.”

“Shit!” Villanelle smirks as Eve turns her attention to the device, trying to find a switch to turn it off. 

“So, Eve.” She steps over the threshold, standing right in front of the other woman so she can whisper in the same cadence as the recording. “Are you ready to admit it?”

“Oh, God.” Eve throws the heart onto the kitchen bench before trudging back to her bed and collapsing on top of it. “Really, Villanelle?”

“You were the one sleeping with it.” She follows her, lying down on Eve’s left side and turning to face her. Eve’s eyes are closed, her mouth partly open as she lets out a sigh.

“I found it right before I fell asleep I…must have fallen asleep with it.” Villanelle chuckles as Eve’s mouth twists into a cringe, like even she finds that statement complete bullshit.

“Are you glad I’m here?”

“I…”

“Don’t say you don’t know because I know you do, if you kissing me was anything to go by.”

She watches Eve’s eyes shoot open when she mentions the kiss and she smirks again. She was caught off guard on the bus but it seems Eve still has some predictability within her. “That wasn’t it, Villanelle, you were hurting me. I needed you to let go of me.”

“So you tell me I’m hurting you.”

“We both know that doesn’t work with you.”

“Okay, but there are many other ways to make me let go of you, Eve. Physically, I mean…”

Eve faces Villanelle as she trails off, eyes wide but emotions within obscured by the room’s darkness. Villanelle swallows. “You hurt me, Eve, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Eve still doesn’t react; shows no signs of registering Villanelle at all if it weren’t for the fact they’re lying so close their noses are almost touching. “I was originally going to record myself saying that to you, and I did, but then, well…” She smirks, playing the kiss over in her mind for the thousandth time in the space of half a day. On impulse her gaze travels to Eve’s lips and she lets out a shaky sigh before its smothered by Eve pressing her lips against hers.

This time they revel in it, closing their eyes and opening their mouths more to let one another in. Eve’s tongue enters Villanelle’s mouth and she moans, feeling a shiver race down Eve’s arm when she places a hand on it to steady herself. Eve’s hand moves up under her shirt, and Villanelle feels her gasp as her fingertips come into contact with the small, jagged line just above her waist.

Villanelle breaks away, panting, letting her hand trail from Eve’s arm into her mess of gorgeous hair. “Show me yours,” she breathes, and lets out a small gasp of pleasure as Eve instantly sits up, taking her shirt off before lying back down on her other side. It’s dark but Villanelle’s close enough to make it out; a sharp line just a little longer than her own, positioned on her back by her left shoulder.  
Villanelle’s fingertips reach out to trace it and Eve sighs at the contact, before it morphs into a gasp as soft lips caress it, as Villanelle traces a path with her lips down the length of the scar, across to her other shoulder, down her back…

Swiftly, Eve turns herself back around, colliding her mouth with Villanelle’s once again in a desperate kiss. It’s deeper this time, laced with longing desire and want.

Suddenly Eve breaks away and Villanelle whines in protest. The older woman presses her forehead against the blonde and chuckles, like she can’t believe what’s occurring.

“Of course I want you here, you arrogant asshole,” she murmurs. “You shot me and I still wanted you here. You left me for dead and I still wanted you here. I basically assumed you’d moved to the other side of the world and started a new life and I still wanted you here.”

“Well that last part’s kind of true.”

There’s a pause. “We’ll get into that later,” Eve replies, moving her right hand to the space on the bed between them, interlocking her fingers with Villanelle’s. “There’s just no getting rid of you and…I don’t think I mind, anymore.”

The smile that stretches across Villanelle’s face is wider than the one from before, and she squeezes Eve’s hand. “Well good, because if you’re not getting rid of me, then I’m getting rid of the rest of these clothes.” Eve barely gets a chance to protest, not that she would, before Villanelle’s on her again, pressing her back into the bedspread to finally have what she’s been wanting since telling the beautiful woman beneath her to wear her hair down.


	2. having

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden image of Villanelle setting her house on fire, her old one she shared with Niko, settles into her brain. And Eve just stands there, letting the flames engulf her, all the while staring at the woman who caused the destruction, SO much destruction…and she doesn’t look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos, or who even just read the first part to this. It truly means a lot, and I've adored writing these two :) Let me know what you think of part 2!

It’s started to rain; a few droplets to begin with before becoming a thunderous roar. There’s a couple fighting next door, their voices raised even more to be heard over the downpour.

Villanelle isn’t paying attention to any of it.

Her sole focus is on the woman she’s currently caressing with kisses upon her stomach, waist, thighs. Eve’s stomach rises and deflates with every ragged breath she takes, squeezing Villanelle’s hand that’s still interlocked with hers. The blonde takes these signs as encouragement, has become so accustomed to them with numerous women previously, so continues beyond Eve’s thighs.

There’s a sharp intake of breath before a drawn-out moan as Villanelle’s tongue finds Eve’s entrance. It’s music to her ears and she can’t help but elicit one herself at the sound, which causes Eve to swear and move her other hand into Villanelle’s hair, pulling and tugging with every gasp.

“Villanelle – God – more, please, more.”

The blonde smirks, catches a glimpse of Eve’s face; her gorgeous face with her darkened eyes, wisps of hair framing them, a ruby blush covering her olive skin…

Villanelle can’t help herself; she edges upwards and locks her lips again with Eve’s; the both of them instantly dissolving into one another as Eve moans at the taste of herself. “You’re so beautiful, Eve,” she murmurs against her lips.

“And you’re an asshole for not finishing what you started.”

Villanelle laughs and shakes her head, eyeing the older woman with equal parts amusement and longing. “God, so impatient,” she exclaims, but thrusts three fingers into Eve regardless. And God, if she thought the sound Eve made earlier was music this one was a damn orchestra. She immerses herself in it.

She begins slow, languid movements, all the while peppering Eve’s neck and collarbone with open-mouthed kisses. “I’ve waited so long for this,” she whispers, just loud enough for Eve to hear over the rainfall. Her hands have moved to Villanelle’s back now, fingertips scraping against her skin in the most painful sort of pleasure.

“M-me too, God, me too.”

Eve moans again as Villanelle’s thumb finds her clit, caressing and pressing until Eve’s only repeating Villanelle’s name over and over, and Villanelle wants to stay in this moment forever.

To Eve, Villanelle’s touch is like fire; burning, igniting a million tiny sparks exploding throughout her body. 

A sudden image of Villanelle setting her house on fire, her old one she shared with Niko, settles into her brain. And Eve just stands there, letting the flames engulf her, all the while staring at the woman who caused the destruction, SO much destruction…and she doesn’t look away.

She doesn’t want to look away.

She applies this thought to her current situation, watching the blonde work her way between her legs, harder, faster, until all Eve can think of is how she would let this woman burn her house down again and again just so she could be here, in this moment with her. 

Villanelle’s face is against her neck now, her fingers pushing into Eve with a gentle force that should not be gentle, not when it comes to the two of them, but it is and Eve can’t get enough…wants more…but she can’t get the words out and only hopes that the gasps and moans she can’t seem to stop emitting will let Villanelle know what she wants.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Villanelle whispers as Eve’s hands move to her back and begin marking them with scratches and indents, adding to their growing collection of scars they tend to give one another, albeit more temporary. And Eve can only just force out her agreement, wanting to let this woman know just how much she’s wanted this, despite all the pain they’ve caused one another and the destruction they’ve left in their wake.

She wants to say more, wants to make sure the blonde is aware of everything she’s going to do to her after, but Villanelle’s hair is still by her face, smelling of the perfume from earlier, and her lips are leaving marks against her neck, and her fingers are moving faster and now her thumb’s just found her clit and Eve thinks she’s about to combust.

Villanelle’s darkened eyes lock with hers. “Let go for me, Eve.”

Eve lets go.

Despite Villanelle complaining about Eve’s impatience earlier, she wastes no time once making Eve come to position herself against Eve’s thigh and start rocking. Eve can feel Villanelle’s desire on her skin and it causes the burning sensation within her to flare up again.

God, this woman.

Villanelle’s gasping with each movement, bracing one hand against the mattress whilst the other massages her breast. Their eyes haven’t left one another’s since Eve came, and now the desire that previously occupied the assassin’s hazel eyes has been replaced with annoyance.

“Eve, you’d think that after I just gave you the most earth-shattering or- “

“Jesus, Villanelle, you’re more impatient than me.”

Villanelle smirks knowingly, before Eve reconnects their lips and switches their positions, throwing Villanelle onto her back none too gently. “Ow, Eve, whilst that was very sexy of you, I do not want back surgery after this.”

“I can recommend a good back surgeon for you.”

Villanelle pauses, unsure how to react to that remark. “Okay, I see what I did there. But I would very much like if you did not stop because of it-“ She’s cut off again by Eve pressing her lips against hers and her hands moving to cup her breasts and trace the scar on her stomach. She releases a moan into Eve’s mouth and automatically her hips rise to meet hers, desperate to connect with something.

She’s about to tell this to the older woman, also wanting to add that she’s never been this turned on in her entire life, but Eve beats her to it by trailing her lips down her neck, her collarbone, her breasts and stomach before finally between her thighs. She’s barely dipped her tongue inside Villanelle and the blonde’s already moaning so loudly she’s sure the neighbours can hear, even over the sound of the rain. She feels Eve chuckle against her, and her tongue’s replaced with fingers as Eve’s mouth moves to put pressure on Villanelle’s clit, and Villanelle thinks this is the closest she’s ever been to dying, and whilst this wasn’t how she pictured it she’s definitely thankful for it.

Eve’s fingers thrust at the same slow pace as Villanelle’s did earlier and she clutches at the sheets, eyes rolled back. “Eve…Eve, faster Eve.”

She listens, adding a third finger whilst her mouth continues sucking at her clit. Her other hand moves up to Villanelle’s breast again and begins massaging it, and it’s this combination that causes Villanelle to unravel, eliciting a string of Russian curses that continue as Eve maintains her rhythm through Villanelle’s orgasm, swiftly coaxing another one from her.

The blonde is certain she’s going to get Eve back for that, but right now her thoughts can only focus on the incredible sensations washing through her, and the beautiful woman causing them.  
“Holy shit,” she says, when she finally gains the energy to speak again. Eve chuckles, moving back up the bed to lie on her side beside the blonde. Villanelle turns, their positions an echo of a previous meeting upon a luxurious bed in Paris. “Well, you certainly knew what you were doing.”

Eve shrugs and her lips turn up into a smirk, her eyes focussing on the patterns her finger traces on the sheet in the space between them. She doesn’t look up as she whispers, “I guess I’d imagined it happening enough times to not give it much thought beyond when it’d happen.”

God, this woman, Villanelle thinks, leaning forward to capture Eve’s lips with her own, hoping that with the gesture Eve can sense just how far Villanelle would go to prove her love; how she’d set the whole world on fire without a care, if it meant that she could spend her time amongst the flames with the woman beside her.

She hopes Eve can sense this when she asks Villanelle, tentatively, to stay the night; a sort of vulnerability in her words given their previous encounters when they remained with one another for too long.  
And she hopes Eve can sense this as they lie beside one another, Villanelle idly tracing the scar on Eve’s back as Eve’s own fingers trace the one on Villanelle’s stomach; the rain outside a reminder of the storm they’ve weathered just to be here beside one another.


End file.
